Phonoi
by MagisterShiryu
Summary: '"Phonoi are the spirits of murder, killing and slaughter," Widowmaker said, coolly. "It suits you well, Jack."' In which Jack Slash enters the world of Overwatch, and begins his campaign of terror. Nobody is safe. Warning of gore, and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** An idea born from the madness that is Worm. Also, since dimensional travel is a thing (from what I understand) in Worm, I think that this could happen.

Don't expect this story to be particularly happy by the way. This motherfucker is one evil, heartless and manipulative bastard. Since this is for the most part from said bastard's perspective, expect references to his own world that aren't going to be explained... Yet. If you _do_ understand/researched it, you'll get by perfectly. Not to say that people who don't are going to be _utterly_ lost.

-*-/|\\-*-

Phonoi

Chapter I

Supplementary

* * *

The Phonoi were the male spirits of murder, killing and slaughter. They are the sons of Eris, goddess of strife.

* * *

Jack opened his eyes, and found that the bubble that the fucking traitor had used on him. His body was pretty badly damaged, but luckily for him, they were being healed by Bonesaw's bio augmentations.

He walked out of where he had been trapped, and looked around. He let out a small smile at the complete and utter carnage, that had happened. Despite the fact that he hadn't been there to see the world torn apart, it felt good that it had happened.

But, he had to wonder why Gray Boy's bubble hadn't torn him apart - like he had seen it happen in front of his own eyes. Maybe it had happened, he hadn't been in a very lucid state when he had been captured.

It was a rather interesting question when a strange portal opened up ten meters in front of him. He regarded it with vague caution, but decided that terrorizing some new place would be interesting as of itself.

He might not have his allies wherever he went, but he did have his wits, and his shard. Which was enough to pose a danger to most people, for the most part. He might be able to do his game, once more?

Now, _that_ was a thought that interested him.

Skitter had been rather fun, so maybe there would be another valliant hero to take the torch? Who knew?

He strolled into the portal, and walked out into...

An alleyway. Ah. The universe finally has humor, he mused.

Luckily for the former leader, he had landed in an alleyway with nobody else around apart from rats.

He walked out of the alleyway, and looked around letting a small grin appear on his face. This place didn't seem to have any capes, since he didn't see anyone with strange or out of place items of clothing nor did anyone carry themselves with the relative arrogance that every cape had. Of course, there was the possibility that there weren't any in the vicinity, but that was unprobable.

Even he had that slight arrogance, despite the fact that his power wasn't the most damage-dealing in the world, but he was capable of completely decimating normal humans.

Unfortunately, he didn't exactly have a weapon on him that he could use his shard on, but he was still dangerous. He looked around and noticed that people were staring at the fact that he seemed to have blood on his clothes.

Grasping the chance to gain some sympathy, he staggered forward until he fell over, right in the middle of the street.

"Oh god! Some man's been stabbed!" A young woman screeched. Over dramatically, he might add, but that was merely a nitpick.

Somebody hefted his body over to the side of the road, and took off his shirt, revealing the many bloodied wounds that Grey Boy had inflicted on him during his confinement. He hadn't exactly felt them, nor seen them, but there was enough blood and enough of himself on the ground to realize that he had been stabbed.

With his own knife, he added with a mocking laugh, knowing Grey Boy.

"He needs to go to hospital," a robotic voice that he guessed was male, stated, cold hands touching his wounds.

He forced himself to shiver under the robot's touch, and eventually heard sounds of sirens. That normally came after he had done something to someone, instead of the opposite.

Ironic.

His body was lifted onto a stretcher, and he heard vague mutters of 'how the hell did this guy survive', among many others along the same lines. Maybe, Grey Boy was feeling vaguely repentant. He doubted that as much that he knew that the world would end after that prophecy, but it was a relatively nice thought.

That was probably the side effects of hearing so much preaching, before he killed the heroic capes. With a lot of subterfuge, but he still killed them.

After he got out of the hospital with some clothes, and potentially a bit of money, if he really put on a 'poor unfortunate soul' act. That he was quite capable of doing, seeing as most of the more confident capes before his rise to infamy called him handsome/charming.

Not that he needed that particular trait, since he had heard of so called 'ugly' people get pity as well, but he apparently wasn't ugly was he? Not that he even had a concept like that, in his head at the moment, but eventually as he learned the social norms of this strange world, he'd understand that.

Before he destroyed it all, but that was something for later. He had more important priorities at the moment, (he was surprising himself today, wasn't he), seeing as he had to vaguely conjure up a story to say why he had been supposedly 'attacked'.

He let himself what he thought that most 'villains' seemed to ignore but do in private, and fall asleep.

* * *

He woke up in around about four hours, finding that he was shirtless, and that they were slowly cleaning his wounds with a strange mix of alchohol and something else unrecognizable.

The doctor (another robot), said clinically, "You have rather impressive pain tolerance, mister...?"

"Jack." The villain answered, calmly. "It's probably adrenaline, I'm assuming."

Jack was analyzing the whole area, discretely of course so that they didn't think that he was some kind of former soldier. He was just a poor bastard that got stabbed, because of an upset boyfriend. Heh. Probably a believable story in this relatively stable Earth.

"That's probably it." The doctor concluded, before his analytical blue orbs for eyes stared at the cataclyst for the destruction of the world. "You also seem to have an incredibly resilient skin, it must have been a strong person to stab you."

"An angry former boyfriend," He supplied, before adding, "What's your name, then?"

"Tekhartha Zenyatta. The hospital required my presence for help, and I came." The monk said, patiently despite the fact that there was a suspicious undertone to his voice.

"Well, thank you." Jack stated, despite the fact that it probably would have healed by itself. Not as fast, though, he suspected.

He could tell that this Zenyatta person was supposedly wise above his years according to the way that he carried himself, and that anything that opposes his ideals should be at least told his point of view on the whole thing in an attempt to stop them.

A rather dangerous opposition if his plans to form another version of Slaughterhouse Nine, were done the same way that he converted that he had done with Amelia.

"He's fit to leave," Tekhartha ordered the patients, soothingly.

He felt an urge to kill the robot, there and now. That could wait for another time, though. He was incredibly patient.

Those orbs though, were rather fascinating. Jack wasn't sure if they were part of a shard, but that was inprobable seeing as capes were common as soon as even the concept of a shard appeared somewhere.

But, there were people with abilties in this place. They might not have shards, but they could amuse him for a while before he killed them.

With help of course, because he had a feeling that those orbs could both fuck him over and do the opposite.

And whilst he was strong, he didn't exactly have the same terror campaign that was helping him out in this universe, that both weakened and empowered his enemies.

The only reason he had been beaten, was because of a traitor, but that was merely an hypothesis. The 'heroes' could have caught up with him, or he'd be betrayed by someone else.

Then again, he had been betrayed because he was too weak in the eyes of the traitor. He was feeling angry against his former underling, but now, he was going to be even stronger then before to counter react that argument.

First thing's first is to get a weapon, and check to see if his shard was still intact. Second, was to read up on what happened in this version of Earth.

He vaguely suspected of being in the future, but hadn't seen _that_ much different. Sure, there were robots that acted like humans and floating cars, but he suspected that every version of Earth had something different to them.

But, he first needed to act like a normal person and pretend that his body wasn't healed yet.

Oh, if the heroes could see him now. They'd think that he was a completely different person.

* * *

Zenyatta looked over at the now dozing off man. He believed that females (and men) would call him attractive, and he was sure that the man definitely used that to his advantage.

But, there was something... Unnatural about him. It was as if, he was hiding something incredibly dangerous.

Genji would call it his sixth sense, and he disagreed. It was more of an instinct then anything else.

He was more suspicious of the fact that this Jack looked at everything with nonchalance, but he was also evalutating them. Their weaknesses, their strengths, among other things.

Dissecting them, for a better word.

That was not the action of a normal civilian. It was the action of either a trained terrorist or soldier, that was in an unknown enviroment. He had seen it, when he visited the countries that were still at war with the Omnics such as South Korea or Russia.

Jack was essentially unsettling, if you looked into it. Under a pretty face, lies a devious mind. The quote perfectly suited the bearded man.

So, he would make a call to check if this man actually existed.

"Genji. I need to check if someone actually exists in any country in the world. Could you do that for me?" The Omnic asked.

"Why though? I'm willing to ask Winston, but he'll need a reason." His friend/student answered, carefully.

"It's that sixth sense that you insist on praising me for." Zenyatta said. "He acts like one of those veterans that you have at that base of yours, except he's _dangerous_."

"Alright. I'll try, you might not get anything though." The cyborg admitted. "He might be one of those illegal immigrants without paperwork."

"At least, try and find someone with his description, my student." He replied, before giving him Jack's description. "He's a tall, black-haired who's hair is thrown back. He has a goatee, and was on the news for being supposedly stabbed."

"He's that guy on the news? The news reporters all wanted an interview with him, since nobody normally survives injuries like that." Genji commented.

"Those veterans of yours have." Zenyatta pointed out.

"I have to hang up. People are demanding use of the phone, to call their families and all that. See you." The ninja said, after a beat of silence entered the call.

"Goodbye, Genji." The Omnic replied, quietly. And the call ended with a loud beep.

At least, he would have a vague chance of finding out who this person was, for better or for worse.

* * *

Jack got out of the hospital, an hour after that robot (that were called Omnics from what he had casually eavesdropped) had appeared. They had given him a pair of clothes, seeing as his own were torn to shreds.

He now was wearing a casual black button up shirt, and grey jeans which was essentially different colours for his old outfit. He didn't care about what he wore, if he wore something.

Then again, he was going to admit that he would refuse point blank to wear anything that females wore. That was just plain idiotic in every sense of the word.

He exited the hospital with little to no problems, and exited the hospital noticing that there were a fair amount of news reporters that were patiently awaiting his next move.

Normally, they were running away from him, he mused. Irony was personifying him at the moment, it seemed.

Jack merely waved, giving them a fake, reassuring grin. Who knew that he was a good actor for facial expressions?

It seems that he was going to get away with faking a stabbing. Which he was the one that normally did those things, but that was in the past.

He strolled along the street, looking he guessed, healthy in the eyes of the public.

He did plan on changing that perspective of happiness that the world seemed to have, at the moment.

But, he had to first familiarize himself with the world. Which meant going to a library, and gaining any information on this world as he could. He was only going back in history for one hundred years.

After that, it would be pointless, and probably similar to what happened in his Earth. World War 2, and all that crap.

He would also have to see if there were any sharp huntsmen knife in the area, since that was the only legal way that he was going to get a sharp knife without delving into a life of crime.

That would happen after he got his knife, and went on a murdering spree. It was how he got into Slaughterhouse Nine, after all.

Maybe, people similar to that Zenyatta would come and... Amuse him for a while. If they became annoying, he'd kill them for sure, but any version of capes were interesting in his eyes.

He might be able to convince them to join him, on his quest for another world ending.

Not that he'd tell them that, apart if they felt the same way about life. That anyone could have it, and that anyone could take it away. An apathy, he believed that it was called, about life.

He managed to find one relatively quickly, and quickly entered.

"Mister. What can I do for you?" A polite blonde-haired woman said from her position at a desk.

"I'm just trying to read up on a bit of history." Jack replied with a grin plastered onto his face.

"Go ahead. It's on the second row to your left." She motioned.

"Thank you, miss...?" The murderer asked, with a charming smile. He felt relatively annoyed, but felt that there was an opportunity here.

"Brittany." The woman answered, flushing slightly red.

"See you in a bit, then." He said, waving from behind his back. He heard vague squealing, and swallowed his contempt forcefully.

He was going to distract himself anyway. It wasn't that much of a problem, in the long term. He did plan on manipulating her into giving him free items, so that he didn't have to resort to stealing from this place.

It would take awhile, and he would probably just read up on it.

He picked up a random book called, 'The Last One Hundred Years', and hastily opened it.

After an hour of reading the book, he found mentions of a team of heroes in disgrace, called Overwatch. Also, there were occasional mentions of an organization called Talon.

There was also apparently the Omnic Crisis that happened 30 years ago, which caused massive destruction to life on Earth.

He might have to get... In contact with one of the scientists that created the Omnics to find out a way to control them. It would be beneficial, but could wait for a few years.

He wasn't exactly pressed on time, at the moment.

Also, there was an Endbringer-like robotic monster terrorizing South Korea, at the moment that was interesting. Not even a quarter as powerful, he was willing to bet, but apparently enough to hold off the technology that this Earth had developped.

A little fact was that he was around about seventy years in the future? Interesting, since he'd have thought that he would have stayed in the year that he had been captured.

Then again, the world hadn't been destroyed when he last seen it, so maybe he had been seventy years in the future.

Who the hell knows, because he hadn't exactly looked at the date when he had travelled to this Earth. It wasn't even that important, in the grand scheme of things, he mused.

He didn't gather much more then that, apart from the fact that peace was a major thing and that people were actively dealing with anything out of the norm. Sounded like an unofficial Protectorate, in his opinion except that this was a much less corrupt version.

He exited the library, not before making a bit of progress on that receptionist, but he suspected that she wasn't needed in the long run. No, he _knew_ that she was a mere pawn.

A plaything for him to manipulate, and eventually discard whenever he got bored.

The thought made him resist the urge to let out a small smile. He didn't doubt that it would appear completely 'psychotic' as Harbringer had called it, when they were in the process of making plans to overthrow King.

Now, _that_ was a thing of beauty. Seeing the surprise look on his face, when the man saw that he had torn his guts apart. He was still alive, or at least enough to say, "Why?"

Rather simple really. He hated being underneath someone, when he knew how every part of his brain and power worked. Jack had known that he could easily, tear him apart.

Close range was King's style, with his shard that enabled him to transfer any injuries, that he sustained onto any person that he had touched within a day. Incredibly easy, to counter and tear his guts apart since he intentionally didn't get touched for a twenty four hour period.

He wondered what he was going to do, at the moment since he had to get money from somewhere now that he was _a **law abiding citizen**_ **.** He resisted the urge to laugh.

But, it was admittedly a pressing problem. He really didn't want to become a homeless person.

He gazed around, before finding some guy getting beat up by some thugs in an alleyway, about twenty meters to the right of the library.

Normally, he wouldn't intervene, but maybe he'd get some of that luck that the heroes kept on having, and find that he'd a job for free? Even if not, he could raid the thugs pockets. He wasn't picky.

He strolled onto the alleyway, and took the despicable way to attack. According to the heroes that he tortured at least. The back.

He landed a solid kick in the back of one of them, quickly spying a knife that clattered onto the ground when he fell over to the side.

He picked it up, and looked back at the men that were all wearing hoodies. "What? I'm just getting a rather cool knife."

"Don't you know that this is our territory?" One fo them asked.

"What, this alleyway?" He taunted, his carefree smile plastered on his face, as he took the knife in his left hand.

He forced the knife to project the tip, where it clipped their hoodies, tearing their hoods off. He probably shouldn't kill them, since there was an innocent nearby, and he didn't want to get a potential buyer of his services to get afraid. Just yet.

"What the hell happened?!" One asked, sounding terrified suddenly.

Jack just decided that he was going to call them by their height. Much simpler.

"That was me." The criminal said, getting their attention back to him. "Aren't you going to fight me like _men?_ "

He knew exactly, what he was doing. They'd get angry because of their pride, and become predictable.

"Get here!" Tallest called, his fist throwing itself towards his face.

He narrowly moved to the left, before letting his punch land on Tallest's neck, who fell forward having put all of his body behind it.

First out of four. Not bad.

Jack took a step back, and grabbed Tall by his leg, and brutally launched him towards a wall. Short followed suite, with Shortest at his back. Teaming up. It was amusing.

Blocking Short's punch, he kicked him in the nuts, and kneed him in the face when he keeled over.

Shortest followed suite, with well placed punches to the neck.

They were all knocked out, which spelled well for him.

"Sir? Thank you." The guy who was getting beaten, thanked him.

He waved him off with a fake smile, and answered. "I'm fine. I just need to find out if they have anything on their boss."

"Okay. I live down the corner at the fifth house, if you need me." The fool said, before leaving, incredibly hastily wanting to pacify him.

Jack scowled, and quickly searched their pockets after thirty seconds. He took out around about five hundred pounds, four credit cards, and a packet of... Sweets?

Hmm. Might as well take care of that loose end, right now.

* * *

Jack looked at the house in front of him, apathetically. It seemed as if they were all asleep. He knew exactly what to do. He projected the knife onto a window, and managed to get the blade under the windows, before pulling.

It opened relatively easily, but the knife was incredibly brittle now. He'd have to get a new one, he had decided.

He crept into the window, noting that he was in the living room now.

The murderer looked around, and seeing that there wasn't anyone downstairs, since there was only a kitchen and a living room, he went up the stairs.

Letting his feet sound against the stairs, he called out, "Who's there? Knock knock, who there? It's the Slash."

Jack heard a small, terrified whimper of absolute terror. He walked towards the sound, and upon opening the door, he saw that it had come from a seven year old girl. He projected the edge, and stabbed her in the throat.

"MUUUMMMM!" The older sister cried out, crying her eyes out at the sight of him murdering her sister. "DAAAA-"

He slashed his knife, and the sound silencing completely as the girl fell over, dead, a terrified look in her eyes.

He walked on, a cold smile on his face as the father, the one that he had saved before, stared at him, horrified. "It's you..."

Jack said nothing instead stabbing forward, as he projected the tip. It entered the eyeball, and the man screamed in utter pain.

He forced it out, and decapitated the father, before moving onto the mother.

"I think that I'll let you live..." Jack stated, chuckling darkly. "Just tell them that Slash is now here, alright?"

"But... Why?" The woman got out, sobbing at his bloodsoaked clothes.

"Because I wanted to..." He lied. It wasn't that. They were merely loose ends, in his eyes. People who could jeopordize his plan. "I am Slash, and I'll leave you a reminder."

He stalked forward, before grabbing her finger, and slowly cutting it off, not even projecting the knife. Blood splattered onto his stolen hoodie (that the disposed of thugs had worn), but he ignored.

She screeched, as it fell off, as she garbled out nonsense.

Might as well, make the police and everyone else, absolutely terrified whilst he was at it, as he left the house.

* * *

 **AN:** Believe it or not, I did plan all of this. Not only does Jack get exposition of the world, we discover how he (always) is a messed up piece of shit. Expect quite a bit of symbolism, as well.

The title went through quite a few changes but since Jack is a point blank evil guy, it fit well, in my opinion.

Anyway, expect messed up things in the future.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** I'm writing this latter part (and hopefully only that), without internet so forgive me if there are any discrepancies in those parts.

Also, I've decided to go an AU route for this story. Explained below.

Enough of my excuses, I'm getting to the story.

* * *

Phonoi

Chapter II

Chaotic

* * *

Talon is an organization that surfaced in the late twenties of this centuries. Originally a biomedical/robotics firm that had gathered a massive amount of wealth, they eventually fell into the dark.

Their research is what kick-started the development of omnics, the Slipstream project, and many other things.

They were suspected of causing the omic crisis, due to Overwatch agents managing to find data on their scientists of putting in obedience charms in every omnic.

Talon, with the help of a man called Sam Kelterson, countered these accusations by saying that if they had managed to put in these chips inside of the omics, they would have stopped the omnics crisis that had admittedly also damaged their income, and killed some of their top scientists.

Some believe that they are one of the perpetrators of Overwatch's downfall, since Overwatch quickly got backlash for the accusations against the firm, that had next to nothing to do with the omic uprising.

What happened after that, is a mystery since they, like I said before, disappeared shortly after.

 _Taken from the article by Gabe Nial, on October the 15th 2070._

* * *

Before you talk about Overwatch, you have to talk about their reason for creation: Blackwatch.

Blackwatch was the main special operation part of the US army, where they performed all of the nasty stuff that goes behind the scene which composed of among other things, assassination, deletion of evidence against the US army, counter-terrorism, and elimination of anti-government groups.

Overwatch was created as the main fighters against the omnics, and was based on the same type of command system that Blackwatch has.

There was also another reason for it's creation: it was to make Blackwatch take a backseat due to the accusations against the spec ops team, and make it seem like Overwatch were the heroes for America, and the entire world.

After the omnic crisis that killed billions, Overwatch was the one that took the hit for all of the damages caused, when it was Blackwatch that had caused all of the damage, because Blackwatch was in fact, the main reason why the omnic crisis came to an end.

It all climaxed into a fateful battle between the two commanders, Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes, which completely destroyed the two spec ops organizations.

 _Taken from an online post by the elusive Sombra, a famous hacker._

* * *

Jack glanced around the area, as he slowly crept towards where those thugs were supposed to be meeting their bosses.

They had written about the meetup on their phones, which had rather easy passwords to guess (dots that you could make letters/symbols with), and he had found a notepad-like application that they had written down dates, and all that on there.

It had been a boon, and he wanted to see if they were going to be a threat to his plans, which if they were...

It was simple really, that he'd kill them before they had a chance to realize that he was there.

He hadn't crept around a place in years, because he had quickly gotten used to the fact that he was _the_ leader of the Slaughterhouse Nine and that he would nearly always have backup.

But, alas, he was in a new world with only himself to look out for. And now he had to rely on old tricks, the notion of surprise and etcetera.

And he seemed to be doing quite well, so far since the abundance of vents that were about the place was rather insane. He felt like a video character, which was rather amusing since he had only heard about them.

A guard slowly crept into his vision, and Jack took the opportunity to take a peek around the area.

Nobody there. Good.

He projected his blade, and quickly cut the artery vein on the man's neck, who dropped to the floor without a sound apart from the clattering of his rifle.

The murderer rapidly dragged the man into the vent, and glanced over the rifle that had dropped to the floor.

Despite the fact that it was an a non-silenced weapon, with probably a massive amount of recoil, it would be good if he ever found himself in a firefight.

He grabbed the man's ammo supply, to which he found that the rifle had around about fifty bullets remaining. Good. He was probably not going to need it anyway.

Slash took the man's holster for the rifle, and holstered it over his back. It was heavier then what he usually had, but he'd manage.

He quickly got out from the vent, since he noted that it ended, and hid behind a wall, peeking out of cover for a split second before widening his eyes at the patrol of five people.

Shit. And they were armed to the death. Jack remembered how he had been defeated, and narrowed his eyes. He had been beaten by a SWAT member, which was a point of anger for him.

He quickly calmed himself down, and looked out, aiming towards the neck, and _projected_ a massive blade of about fifteen meters, and he slashed.

The blood and cries of pain (that could be taken for drunken shouting), exploded and he ran towards their bodies, grabbing another rifle, a shotgun, and a small semi-automatic hand pistol.

He threw the bodies into the vent that he had just crept out of, and looked over the loot that he had acquired.

Now, he quickly grabbed the semi-automatic silenced (luckily) pistol, and threw the rifle of his pack, and taking the pistol.

He also took the ammo which he found around about thirty, and also took the holster that he put on his right side, and inserted the pistol.

The sneaking man quickly took the pistol, with his right hand, and put his knife into the holster.

He should probably try to get used to a gun again, he supposed, since he did plan on keeping this gun until he got a better one.

He looked down the iron sights, and found that ironically he could aim better with his right eye closed and his left open. Wasn't it the opposite for the most part?

That was just trivia, he decided as he managed to get a snippet of conversation from a pair of thugs.

"So, Ben you going to the match tomorrow?" A thug asked to other man, a guy called Ben.

"Nope. I plan on spending some time with my daughter, because the boss ain't exactly forgiving with his hours of work. And my wife is getting suspicious about why I'm getting injuries every now and then." The man replied, before taking a sip of some kind of liquid.

Jack tuned it out, before peeking around the corner once more, and he found them alone at some type of bar.

He decided to eliminate them, in case that they come back to haunt him when he did blow this place to the ground.

The how didn't matter, but he did want to that.

After leaving someone alive, and ordering them to say that Slash did this once more.

But his fantasies could wait a while longer.

He took out his pistol, and got out of his peeking place before sneaking right next to the entrance.

It seemed as if there was no-one there, apart from the two men from earlier. He jumped out from cover, and fired four shots from his magazine, two of them hitting next to their unprotected and the others landing on the neck and head respectively.

He searched through their bodies, extracting some more ammo and a strange tiny pack of medical supplies (that were so creatively called Heroes Never Die).

The meds apparently could heal injuries such as burns, shrapnel blasts, and robotic firing.

He wasn't kidding that was what it said.

Getting over his stupefaction after a minute, he put the small spray bottle into his pocket and quickly looked around.

Absently reloading his gun, he noted a map that indicated that he was merely twenty meters away from the main meeting room, which was a massive sort of...

Room where nearly everything happened, including meetings, training and other things that were unimportant for him.

He rapidly entered a vent, and crept up until he saw the main room that had a man at the top, and literally a sea of men and woman of different origins and style, kneeling to this leader.

Slash grabbed his knife, and slowly opened the vent until he could get a clear view of the man's neck to which he extended his blade, and decapitated his head clear off.

Panic quickly extended among the ranks, to which he smiled and called, "Hello, fellow criminals, hired muscle and people with families to feed. I am Slash, the famous murderer who killed an entire family for no reason. How are the rest of you?"

Guns were quickly pointing at his face, and Jack grinned savagely. "You are naïve enough to think that if I can kill your leader from so far away with a knife, that I cannot simply make it wider, bigger, and _sharper_?"

Their guns wavered, and Jack raised his knife and projected the blunt side, putting it at their necks before they could do a thing.

They widened their eyes, and he asked with the same grin that his victims saw on his face before dying, "Do you now realize what I can do, and how _powerless_ you are against people of my calibre? That even that terrorist Reaper would be impressed at my handiwork?"

"Reinforces!" A woman screamed into her communicator, suddenly only to get nothing but static back. "Please..."

"I took care of them as soon as I arrived," The sliver-tongued cape continued with the same grin on his face. "And for that attempt at rebellion, you are to be decapitated. Do it someone!"

When no-one moved, he raised his knife. " _Please_. Before I get sick of you lot, and kill everyone here and their families."

"No please!" She screamed in fright. "I'll do anything!"

A man with a black rifle on his back, took his rifle and fired two bullets in her head, as she yelled and screamed at the man.

Silence rained for a second, before Jack ordered. "The one that shot the girl. Who are you?"

"I am Hannibal." The man knelt before him, said. "And I respect power, that is why I am to be your follower."

"Hmm. Good." Slash said, charismatic. "Do you know that you're named after a famous serial killer, who after solving a few crimes for the police, killed them and deformed their bodies? I hope that you are as... Excessive as he is."

The other thing that he had noticed that he hadn't said, was the fact that Hannibal had said practically the exact same thing that he had when he had met King, for the first thing. It was positively eerie.

If anyone acted up against him, he'd fucking murder any traitor that attempted to murder him. He did _not_ want to become like Gabriel, who died before he even had a clue what to do.

He proclaimed to the crowds, "Go to your families, or something like that. Come back here at nine o'clock sharp, because there are some things that I want to sort out."

Just before they actually dispersed, he added as an afterthought, a cheek-stretching grin on his face. "And don't go running to the police, alright? We don't want anything happening, do we?"

* * *

"So, whadda we have here?" Junkrat asked his companion, a big man with a gas mask called Roadhog.

After a second of analysing what was happening, Mako came up with, "I... Don't know..."

There was an abandoned complex to the south-east of King's Row, with men and women running from it at varying speeds. It was like a scene from getting back home from work, but they had guns, armour and other items.

The duo were intrigued, and resisted the urge to destroy the entire complex if only to find out what the hell was happening in this place.

Junkrat quickly discharged an explosive, at a nearby wall, causing dust, rubble and other parts of the building to get destroyed in the process. They entered, and came across a man with a dagger, and pistol in his two hands, as he looked upon them.

Upon closer look, he was wearing a strange black armour over a white sleeved t-shirt and black cargo pants. There was a mask on his face, with pale blue eyes shining through the eyeholes, and a cut-off part that you could see his mouth.

When he noticed that they were there, he gave them a wide grin. "Is there anything you needed, Junkrat and Roadhog?"

"So ya know our names?" Jamison grinned at the other man. "We were just looking around, and came across tons of people runnin' around with weapons and shit."

"If you say so," The criminal replied, with a smirk on his face. "But, I'm starting to believe that you want something."

Fawkes hadn't actually thought about why he had come here, but got a few ideas in head. For some reason, he had a feeling that this guy could make many things happen, if only for the fact that he noticed that his hand unintentionally always went towards his dagger.

He was dangerous, like him and Mako. And he _liked_ that.

"Maybe, ya could get us a free trip to tha USA? Me and Mako are getting bored of always going to the same PLACES! IT GETS OLD! AHAHAHAHAAAA!" Junkrat cackled, maniacally.

"A service requires one as well, if I recall correctly. What can you provide me in exchange, for my service in getting you across the Atlantic?" He asked, before adding as an afterthought, "And since we are getting into a business transaction, how about I tell you my name?"

"Thadda be a good idea!" The psychopathic explosives expert exclaimed.

"I'm Slash," The murderer called Slash, introduced himself without any flourish.

"You're that guy that people have compared with us, and that Reaper guy." Mako spoke up for the first time, with a slight rasp to his voice. He then cackled. "If you want us to assist you, you better share the loot! HAHAHAA!"

He grinned back. "You grabbed the words from my mouth. I'll let you two pick any heists that you want to, and I'll choose any assassinations that have to be performed. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" Junkrat said, without any thought given to it. "We'll be back here tomorrow then!"

And they took off, without any further notice or other words exchanged.

* * *

 _A week later..._

"Ready?" Jack asked, the two people that had become his unofficial sidekicks, in all but name.

"Yeah," Junkrat reassured with a slight cackle of excitement to his tone. "We're gonna crash the party, when you get 'captured' by those fuckwits at the police, us two are gonna start blowin' shit up, and killing people!"

"And you did say that we're going to do a heist after this," Mako added afterwards. "So it'll be worth it! HEHEHE!"

"Alright. I'm going in," He replied to the duo of maniacs, before leaping from his hiding place, and brandishing his dagger at the protestors.

He was crashing this protestors rally against the free rights of omnics, if only to demonstrate how unstoppable he, Fawkes and Mako actually were. And make himself become even more of a fearful figure.

They had gotten this intel from simply asking his thugs to interrogate some civilians for some info, and after that killing them of course, for no loose ends to be traced back to his organization.

Hannibal was also staking out, killing any random people that managed to get away from his and the duo's rampage, despite his slight discrepancies for the man, he had decided to not alienate the man if only for the fact that Hannibal was extremely skilled at what he did.

The protestors stopped to stare at him, and his guns, knife, armour and other items. He projected his knife, and merely slashed.

Their heads were lopped clean off their heads, and when people started screaming, filming or something else, he merely pulled out his pistol and fired multiple rounds at their heads, or other body parts that he missed.

His carnage was continuing, with their screams echoing in his ears, making him feel _alive_.

"RUN! HE'S - AGH!"

"SLASH! OH SHI-"

"No-o-o... Pleeeaaasseee, noooo-"

"MOMMY! PLEASE WAKE UP!"

Jack savoured this, while it lasted before he looked, to see if he had managed to kill all of the protestors.

He apparently hadn't, and pulled out his knife, extended the edge, and moved his arm. In another words, many other body parts fell off, blood was everywhere...

It felt surprisingly good to not be the underdog in this universe, unlike before where he met his untimely end at the hands of Grey Boy.

The thought immediately made his hands clutch his weapons, tightly in a sentiment of hate.

He swore to god, that if there was anyone like Grey Boy in this world, he'd murder them before they even got a chance to even blink.

He heard the sudden sound of someone using a type of teleportation, and narrowly ducked under cover to avoid the incoming gunfire.

Jack glanced up, and noticed the extremely recognizable outfit of the hero, Tracer. He smirked underneath his mask, and quickly fired a tentative shot at the time-bending hero.

All he had to do, was manage to land a shot (or stab, he reminded himself) that massive strap on her torso.

He jumped out of cover, and smiled. "So, the hero Tracer appears to save the day once more. How convienient."

"Shut up, you monster." She snarled, at him.

"Ah, ah. Calm down. We wouldn't want that blue thing to get, I don't know, _shot_." Slash commented, smugly.

"You don't even merit prison, Slash." Tracer retorted, angrily staring right into his mask, no cheer at all in either her face or voice.

"Give in to your dark side, as the movies put it. Kill me, and prove all of Overwatch's critics that you are all murderers." He said, smiling.

That stilled her enough, for him to fire a shot, and follow up with an extended swing of his knife.

Her form suddenly became blue, and Jack was immediately forced block her attempted uppecut with her pistols, countering with a stab.

She teleported backwards, and started firing with her automatics pistols. All of her shots missed, luckily, and Jack quickly noticed that she had a massive amount of recoil on those things, which meant that she would miss nearly all of her shots at long range.

He decided to force her back, by extending his knife, and moving it towards a crowd of police officers that had come to assist her, quickly decapitating them, before he ordered, "James, Mako! Get down here, I've got a member of Overwatch on my ass, with tons of police here that can be your targets after I take care of Tracer."

"Alright, boss!" yelled Junkrat in reply, before Slash heard the loud boom of a screech of laughter, and a loud guttural roar of Roadhog.

Jack smirked, and quickly ran into an alleyway, Tracer hot on his heels.

She quickly teleported in front of him, and tackled him, knocking his gun and knife out of his hands, getting on top of him, her pistols in front of his face.

He growled, and forced her onto her back, knocking her weapons away, and quickly punched her in the jaw, following with a grab of her hair, and smashing it against the pavement.

She slumped over, and he got off of her. Blood was pouring from underneath her, and Jack looked around.

He picked up his weapons, and after a moment's thought, he also grabbed Tracer's, if only to sell them on the black market, or if he ever needed them in a fight.

Jack heard sounds of screaming, explosions among a bunch of other things, and smirked when he realized that James and Mako were doing their work, and quickly contacted Hannibal.

"Hannibal. I've just taken out Tracer-" He started.

"Wait, Overwatch is fucking here?!" The lieutenant interrupted, loudly.

"Quiet down, and yes. But I think that this is their only agent in the area, because otherwise I'd probably be in a much tighter situation." Jack admitted, before continuing on. "But, have you taken care of the remaining protestors?"

"No, some probably got away in the confusion." Hannibal said, apologetically. "Sorry. I should have taken care of them."

"That is actually beneficial." He said, before explaining his reasoning. "Because, we want to be feared, don't we?"

"...I haven't thought of it, like that."

"It's of no consequence. I'll be back at base after I've gotten Junkrat and Roadhog out of their mess," Jack stated, before closing the comms.

He glanced at Tracer, and thought about quickly killing her, but decided that having another Skitter on his tail would be extremely fun to play with.

Slash gave her another bash in the head with his gun, just to make sure that she stayed unconscious just so that he could get away without getting shot. He quickly launched up comms with Junkrat and Roadhog, just to see if they were doing alright.

"Jamison? What the hell is happening?"

"We've gotta tha cops on our tail! We're on Fawkes Steet- HAHAHAHAHA!"

Slash grunted, and quickly started running towards Fawkes Street which was around about three hundred yards away.

After fifteen minutes, he finally arrived to the scene of Junkrat launching explosives, and Mako using his hook to throw the cops around.

He quickly ran towards them, only to be forced to dive behind cover as the police immediately focused on him.

"Call the counter-terrorists! We've got Junkrat, Roadhog and Slash here!" One of the policemen shouted, before Jack put a bullet in between his eyes.

"We need to kill these fucking murderers!" Another continued, but Junkrat interrupted him by launching a trap on their car, and exploding it, killing the rest of the cops.

"Are we good?" Slash asked, letting out a small breath.

"Yeah. We should be leaving now." Mako said, before letting out a cackle. "Because we need a bit more entertainment then that! What did you fight, then Slash?"

"A member of Overwatch called Tracer." Was his rather simple reply. "But let's go whilst we have a window of opportunity."

And the three criminals didn't even realize what they had set in motion.

* * *

 **AN:** Ooof. That was rather tough to write.

Hope the fight scene wasn't that horrible, because in my mind I reckon that Jack could beat Tracer in that fight, with those circumstances.

Yes, you can say that she could have Recalled out of there, but she already did that if you look closely.

And I have a headcannon that all abilities in Overwatch have to be manually activated, through either a thought or something like that. So, since Jack well, punched her in the jaw, he disorientated her, and the rest is well history.

What I meant by AU, was the fact that many things in the universe have been slightly, or openly tampered with to my own liking to suit the story. The one thing that I dislike about Overwatch is that it is so very black/white morality.

Because in Marvel _and_ DC, there is always a grey/greyer morality unlike Overwatch. These are my thoughts on the matter, feel free to tell me otherwise.

Hope you enjoyed. Chapters should be a tiny bit more regular from here on out, because of school.


End file.
